Driven to Affliction
by Kamuela
Summary: Of all things, he loved his mother. He shouldn’t, he knew, but despite all she put him through he still did. This is the story of Charles Bass’s childhood and how he became the Upper East Side’s morally bankrupt playboy. BC.


_**Disclaimer: **_Everything here belongs to either Cecily von Ziegesar or Josh Schwartz.

_Hello! Just to let you know, this story is dark…I just wanted to write about how Chuck Bass became what he was. It based off of the television show, as in the books Misty isn't dead. The story is a series of flashbacks, but the present-tense is when Chuck is 18, having just graduated from school. I hope you all enjoy, I really had fun writing this one! So please, feel free to drop a review off and tell me what you think…it is more than appreciated. Thanks and enjoy!_

_-Kamuela_

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_**Driven to Affliction** _

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"Another vodka, please."

"Coming right up, Mr. Bass."

Chuck placed his head in his hands. It was his third vodka in the large span of an hour and he was starting to feel its effects. Well, he needed it. It was either this or sleeping around and he really didn't feel like having female company. No, it would just make him think of her more. It was, of course, the dreaded date of July 16. It was the three year anniversary. And he was driven to his father's bar again, to console himself for something that no matter who said what, he would always be scarred from.

Oh, he'd been to countless therapy sessions when he was 15. He talked to shrinks, explained how that 'made him feel' and why he acted the way he acted. He understood his situation better than anyone else PhD and all. He really didn't care to hear their opinions. When he was 16 his father tried to drug him beyond comprehension. But that didn't work. It just made him sick and he spent more than a few nights in the hospital. And getting one's stomach pumped was not fun. When he was 17, his father hired another shrink to talk to him but Chuck refused to go. So his father let him decide what he wanted. And Chuck decided to do things more naturally. A mixture of alcohol, drugs, and sex seemed to work the best.

Now for which anniversary was he binging? Why, it was just three years ago that his dear old mum, Misty Bass, committed suicide. Oh yes, she had decided to mix several anti-depressant pills with several sleeping pills with several pain killers. It was quite a dreadful sight, especially for her son, who had found her after he returned from school.

Of all things, Chuck Bass loved his mother.

Well, at least when he was younger he loved his mother. Now, slowly but surely he was beginning to hate her memory.

When he was young, there was nothing more that he loved than returning from kindergarten to find his mother glamorously dressed, lounging on the sofa reading from a _W_ magazine. She would set down the magazine, set down the cosmopolitan, and direct all of her attention to her son. He would relate to her the day of kindergarten filled with all of the juicy monkey bars gossip, which she loved, and then he would tell her all of the things that they were learning. She would help him with any of his homework, help him memorize the spelling words, memorize the vocabulary, etc.

She was a wonderful mother to him—for the first eight years of his existence. She was the supportive one while Bart was away on business trips trying to make some multi-million dollar deal or whatever he did away. She was the one that would wipe his nose when he was sick, drive to the end of the world for medicine and 7-Up when he had the flu, and comfort him when he was scared. When Bart was away (which was more than not the case) she would even let him sleep in the master bedroom during the thunder storms when he was scared.

Misty Bass was an amazing person as well. She loved to do adventurous things like horseback riding and skiing in the Alps. One time she even went skydiving though Bart would have none of it. Not only had she bought a whole stable filled with high-bred Arabian horses, every Christmas she rented a divine little villa in Switzerland to stay at. She always told Chuck that Santa would bring more toys since Switzerland was closer to the North Pole and he wouldn't have to carry them as far.

Chuck Bass grew up with this. He knew he always had someone to turn to. He loved his mother more than anything else in the world and he knew that she loved him. However, all good things must come to an end and everyone, including mothers, has certain flaws that they must learn to conquer.

When he turned eight, Misty Bass was diagnosed with manic depression and acute schizophrenia. Of course as a child, Chuck had no idea what this meant. He really didn't care either, though. All he knew was that his mother was still there for him if he needed her. But he had never thought that there would be a time when she couldn't take care of him or herself.

At times, Chuck could go to his mother and she would be fine. More than fine, actually. The same as before. But other times…Chuck met the Mr. Hyde of his mother's split persona.

When Chuck started the second grade, he returned home with some papers for his mother to sign. He threw his backpack and lunchbox down on the kitchen table and began searching the house for his mother. He found her in the study, talking quite animatedly. But there was no one in the room with her.

"Mom?" asked Chuck in a cautious voice.

Misty turned, her smile faltering. "Charles…why are you wearing your shoes in the house?"

Chuck looked down to his feet. Sure enough, he was wearing sneakers but they were perfectly clean. "I'm sor--"

And she yelled at him. The first time in his whole life he got spanked. She yelled for a good hour, making her young son cry. She called him names, claimed she wished she had never given birth to him, denounced her love for him, and threatened to send him to an orphanage. And then, as if nothing had happened, she stopped with her mouth still open in a half scream. Her face was blood red and she was shaking.

Chuck continued to cry even after the episode was over. Tears were rushing down his cheeks freely and his nose was running. He was sobbing hysterically. Why was his mother treating him that way? Didn't she love him?

When Misty regained her mind, she felt horrible, of course.

What mother wouldn't feel a gnawing sensation in the pit of her stomach as she looked at her son, cowering at her feet, tears streaming freely down his cheeks? It was all her fault – and the worst part? She had not been able to control herself. It was a scary thing. She wouldn't have even been able to stop herself from hitting and hurting him physically.

"I'm sorry Chucky," Misty said, eyes tearing up. "Mommy was…out of sorts. It's okay. Keep your shoes on. I like them." She kissed him on his head. "Never again."

Of course, it wasn't the last time she lost control.

The second time was a month later, after Chuck had gotten in a fight at school. He and William Gables had been arguing and finally Will had gotten sick of it and slugged Chuck in the face. Chuck, of course, fought back and the whole thing turned into a rough-house of flying fists. When Misty brought Chuck home from the principal's office, she tried to swallow her anger. But she couldn't.

When Bart Bass returned from work that evening, he saw Chuck watching television in the living room. His left eye was black and he was cradling his right arm across his chest.

"Misty!" Bart roared. Chuck stood up, looking quite terrified. "What happened, son?"

"I got in a fight at school," Chuck whispered. Bart gently touched Chuck's right hand and straightened the arm. The wrist was doubtlessly broken; it was purpled and swollen to the size of a grapefruit.

"Who did this to you?" Bart asked.

"W-William Gables."

Bart frowned. "What did the teachers say about your arm? Didn't they tell Mommy to take you to the hospital?"

Chuck bit his lip. "It…didn't look like this when I left school."

It was then that Misty came roaming down the staircase. She hesitated when she saw Bart but she put her head up. "I phoned you that Charles got in a fight. You didn't call back."

Bart frowned in her direction. "Why didn't you take him to the hospital? I mean—look at his wrist! He needs to see a doctor!"

Misty's eyebrows scrunched together. "It didn't look like that this afternoon. Chucky, why didn't you get me when it swelled up so big?" Chuck didn't say anything; his eyes were sparkling with tears.

"It hurts…" the little boy's voice cracked.

Bart ran a hand through his hair before he slid his jacket back on. "Come on, son, I'll take you to the hospital. Misty… call up the school and talk to the nurse about this. Something's got to be done about their negligence."

Chuck's wrist was fractured in two places and he had to wear a bulky cast for nearly 3 months. The school claimed that when Charles Bass had left, his only injury had been a black eye. But after Bart Bass threatened to sue, the nurse of the school realized she hadn't checked over the wrist and was promptly fired.

A few months into his forth grade year, Chuck, being an average clumsy boy, accidentally got gum in his hair. It wasn't a big deal—not even that much gum was stuck. However, when Misty saw Chuck with little clumps of hair glued together with Bubalicious, she immediately grabbed scissors and began cutting. When Bart came home, his son was practically bald in the front. Misty blamed Chuck, but Bart realized the lies. At the barber, as Chuck was getting his head shaved completely, Bart confronted him.

"I know you love your mother…but tell me. Does she ever…hit you? Or yell at you?"

Bart's eyes were stern and he had a tense hand on his son's shoulder. Chuck looked away. "No…of course not. I mean, she yells at me when I'm bad…but so do you. I got gum in my hair, Dad. That's why she cut my hair."

Letting it drop for the time being, Bart nodded. "Alright, son. But if you need to talk…"

Chuck squinted out the window. "You're here…I know."

Another night stuck clearly in Chuck's mind. Bart was in Europe doing something for his business. Misty was in the liquor cabinet. She had been for the past hour.

Chuck entered the room and saw his mother downing some whisky. Her eyes were red and swollen, her hands were trembling. Swallowing harshly, Chuck took a deep breath.

"Mom? Um…come here. Give me your drink." He really didn't know what to do. He was only twelve. He was still at that stage where he wanted her to take care of him, regardless of what he told his friends.

Misty swatted him away. "Gerroff!" She staggered away and fell onto the couch, spilling half of the glass down her front. "Shit."

Chuck looked at her tentatively. "Mom…let me help." He reached for his mother's hands, who in turn slapped him harshly across the cheek.

"Don't touch me," she hissed. "You're a mistake. D'you hear me? I never wanted your sorry ass. The worst day of my life was when I didn't get an abortion. You're a bastard! Nothing good will come from you. I've hated you all my life you little son-of-a-fu--"

And she hit him again. This time, it made his nose bleed. It didn't really hurt at the time. He was too stunned. Too hurt, too afraid, too…

She threw her glass across the room and it shattered on the wall. "Get out!"

He didn't need her to tell him twice. He ran from the room and locked himself in the bathroom. He stayed there until the morning when he was sure she had passed out. He was late to school and spent the next several days with Nate. When he finally returned home, he made sure it was on the day that Bart returned too. His mom didn't seem to remember a thing.

When Bart returned, Chuck finally told him what had been happening. It was horrible for the twelve-year-old, but Bart was kind. He explained to Chuck that it wasn't his mother doing all of those things and that she needed help. Chuck agreed.

Misty Bass was admitted into a psyche ward for six months. Despite all of the things she had done to him, Chuck was devastated. He knew that he would be without a parent for the next half a year. Bart was going to be in China and Misty was going to be in an asylum. Although living with his mother was sometimes horrible, Chuck was still afraid of being so alone. He would have the hired help and that was it. No siblings, no parents…

It was on the night of her departure that he lost his virginity to Georgina Sparks. It wasn't like he was in love with the girl; it was just that he was lonely. Too bad Georgina was just as psychotic as his mother.

But he liked sleeping with her. It made him feel like someone was there for him. It made him feel like when he was younger, when his mother actually loved him. It made him feel as if he was wanted and that his life wasn't just a screw up like he was told.

It was also in the sixth grade that Chuck and his best-friend-since-forever, Nate, began to smoke marijuana. In copious amounts. Chuck liked the way it softened the hollowness he felt inside. He liked how he could forget about all of the things his mother did to him during her fits. Well, for a while he could forget them.

When Misty Bass returned from her short stint with the crazy house, she turned to alcohol. She finally realized that she had a problem that was beyond her control. She became quite depressed but continued to take the medicine for her ailments. For a few months, at least, she kept a clear head and sane mind. She still loved Chuck. Or so he told himself.

The family came together again for the first time for years. It seemed that Misty had returned to her sane mind and things would be alright. For once, Chuck was genuinely happy. He was able to spend time with his mom without hearing the insults. Without fearing her. And it was nice.

However, Bart Bass was not a stupid man. He knew that another storm was coming. It was bound to. And Bart also knew that Chuck was going to be even more hush-hush about this than last time since he was so bent on things being the way they were. Chuck loved his mother. Bart knew that and was ready to watch for all of the symptoms.

One night, during the spring of Chuck's eighth grade year, Bart returned home from a three week business trip to find his son on crutches with a broken ankle. Not only that, but bruises covered his face and arms. Chuck went pale when he saw Bart. It was the last straw. Bart's whole face turned red.

"I slipped on the stairs," Chuck demanded as he tried to stand up to meet his father's eyes. Bart laid a hand on Chuck's shoulder to keep him sitting.

"Charles. Tell me the truth. Did your mother push you?"

Chuck's face colored. "We were having a fight about my grades. I got a C in Chemistry and she was angry. I was…leaving and slipped."

Shaking his head furiously, Bart said, "Tell me the truth or I'm going to call the police and see what they think about all of this."

He dropped his eyes. "Dad, you've got to believe me—she didn't mean to. She was drunk. It wasn't an episode. She had taken her pills. She was just drinking too much and you know--"

Bart Bass clenched his fists from rage and stormed from the room. For the next three hours, Chuck could hear his parents fighting. Finally, Bart demanded that the maids pack up some things for Misty before he drove her back to _Holliswood_.

Chuck remained home. It was the last time he cried for his mother. It was the last time he referred to Bart as 'dad' and not 'father.'

This time, Misty Bass stayed at _Holliswood_ for only three months. When she returned, she was oddly calm. She looked pale and skinny, always with a frown on her lips and tears in her eyes. She cried at the drop of a hat and had dark circles beneath her eyes.

On July 15, 2005, while Chuck was fighting his way through a book that was assigned for summer homework, Misty came into the room crying. She hugged Chuck.

"I'm sorry I'm such a horrible mother. You deserve so much better. You're such a wonderful son," she sobbed. Chuck froze. What was he supposed to say?

"No…Mom…I love you…"

"I don't deserve it." She breathed in heavily, "I really don't. I'm just so sorry Charles. You really are the best thing that's ever happened to me. I'm so sorry."

"Mom, really, it's okay…"

"No. It's not. But don't worry, Chucky," his mom said as she pushed his hair back, "I'm going to make it all better. You'll see. You don't have to worry about anything like that ever again." She kissed him on the forehead. "Good night darling."

Of course, it was the next day that, coming home from Nate's house, Chuck found the paramedics trying to resuscitate his mother. She was pronounced dead at exactly 5:14 pm. The maids had found her in her bed, empty prescription bottles all around her form, white froth on her lips, her body shaking in seizures. Chuck had seen most of the ordeal. No one had been able to pull him away.

Somehow Bart had managed to have her death labeled as an accidental overdose instead of a suicide. But Chuck knew. Everyone knew. Gossip Girl knew.

The funeral had been a close one. Only Misty's family and Nate came. Nate to give Chuck moral support. Moral support he refused from his father.

Not a month later, the shrinks came. The overflow of questions with illogical answers.

The Fluoxetine came. And when that didn't work the doctors prescribed Sertraline, Fluvoxamine, and Clomipramine.

The grades dropped. The alcohol and drug intake increased.

He lost friends. He gained a bad reputation.

And the one thing that Chuck did that he hadn't done before: one night stands. They were a wonderful confident boost when he had none. They were wonderful when Bart was away and the house seemed too large. They were wonderful when he had his own apartment. It was nice to have someone, if only for a moment, to lie down next to, to cuddle with, to make love to.

Because really, all his childhood, Chuck had been alone.

Sure, he had Nate, he had Bart, he had his mother. But did they really count?

Now, he was graduated from high school. It was the summer of his freshman year at college. Seemingly, he had _matured_. Well, he stopped the one-night stands for her, that is.

Who is she, you ask? The love of his life. The one person that made him feel happy. The one person that he knew would always be there for him. His exclusive girlfriend. She was the one person that turned things around for him. Before her he was an emotional wreck. She brought out all of the goodness he had in him and made him feel complete. Her influence had better results than all of the anti-depressants bottled up in one. When he was with her, he no longer had to put on a mask. He could be himself and she loved him – flaws and all.

Chuck shook his head, breaking his stupor. He had finished the third glass of Smirnoff without even realizing it. He set the glass down and stretched.

Sure, he was still guilty about his mother. He still thought he could have changed some things if he had been a better son. But overall, he wasn't the wreck that he had been when he was younger. He no longer needed to smoke or drink to get away from the pain. He was becoming happier.

And he prayed that his mother was somewhere better. And that she knew he forgave her.

Suddenly, Chuck felt someone snake their arms around him. He looked up to find that it was none other than _her_, Blair Waldorf, looking quite divine in an Ederm dress and Wolford tights. She kissed his cheek.

"Are you okay?" she asked softly as she perched on one of his knees. He pulled her against his chest, bending down to kiss her head.

"Hm-hmm."

"I just want you to know…I'm always here for you. You don't ever have to be alone again."

And he smiled. One of the only true smiles he had ever offered. Of course it was for her. It was always for her. Blair cupped his chin and kissed him with each word:

"Charles Bass, I love you so, so, so, so, so much."

And not only did he believe her, he loved her back tenfold.

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